Epilogue
THORIN
Solaris has begun to heal.
With that healing came a warmth over the capital unlike anything I have known in my lifetime. Flowers bloom where rot once gathered. The canals run clear. For the first time in centuries, the people of Andell walk beneath sunlight, feeling its warmth on their skin.
The curse is gone, so I should feel free. Instead, I descend into the dungeons alone.
Some destruction comes swiftly. A blade. A war. A kingdom burning beneath an enemy’s torch. Other destruction is patient. It sits beside you. Fights beside you. Bleeds for you.
My footsteps echo through the black tunnels beneath the palace. I bring no guards with me because I do not need them. No one knows he is here.
After Solaris began to heal, I allowed the kingdom to celebrate. I stood beside Lyra while people flooded the streets of Andell and watched sunlight touch her face as she looked over the kingdom she helped save. And all the while, I waited. I would not accuse him without proof.
Now I have it.
My pace remains unhurried as I descend farther beneath the palace, though my shadows betray what the rest of me will not. They twist along the walls, restless and violent, reaching toward the darkness ahead as though they already know who waits at the end of it.
I tighten my control. Not yet.
Restraint has always come easily to me. Tonight, it requires everything I have, but I do it for her. Lyra has spent enough of her life surrounded by men who justify cruelty by calling it necessary. I will not become another one.
The Dark Ember is gone, but Ryza’s mark remains upon me. Perhaps it always will. If I chose to surrender to it now, I could become the blade of judgment Solaris once believed me to be.
I do not.
I reach the final door and pull a single iron key from my coat.
The lock turns. The chamber beyond is small and damp, rank with mold and stagnant water.
A narrow window near the ceiling allows a thin shaft of moonlight inside, illuminating the man bound to the chair at its center.
Chains forged by the gods themselves circle his wrists.
I stop before him.
For several seconds, neither of us speaks. I look into eyes I have known since childhood. Eyes I have trusted with my life. Eyes belonging to the man I would have died for without hesitation.
My brother.
My captain.
Traitor to the Crown.
Of all the betrayals I prepared myself to face, I never prepared for his.
“Brother.”
Onyx raises his head.
For once, there is no cleverness in his expression. No defiance. Only guilt and shame.
“Thorin.”
I pull a chair across from him and sit.
“I suppose we should begin at the beginning.”
His mouth tightens.
I lean back, assessing him. “Do try to be concise. I do not have all night. I have a queen waiting for me.”
Something like fear passes across my brother’s face. I wish I found satisfaction in it. I do not. I only find pain, and betrayal that cannot be undone.
“If Lyra discovers what you have done before you explain it to me…” I allow the sentence to trail off.
One of my shadows curls over his shoulder. His breathing changes.
“It may not be me you have to fear.”